


The Youth

by afairlypudgycat



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bondage, Food Play, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:28:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afairlypudgycat/pseuds/afairlypudgycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bumblebee and Smokescreen blow of some steam and other things *wink wonk*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Youth

It wasn’t often that Bee found Smokescreen moping, but when he did, he typically knew the problem. Currently Smokescreen was sitting outside the shelter in vehicle mode while it rained. His yellow friend quietly drove over to him and gently nudged the side of his hood.

“Not now Bumblebee.” His voice was low and listless.

Smokescreen’s headlights dimmed as Bee transformed and sat next to his friend, his hand on the roof.

“It’s just—“ Smokescreen huffed. “I try so hard to do my best. I want to fight. I want to help Optimus. He’s my hero, you know? But Arcee, she’s always judging me!” He shifted into robot form and took a few steps away before dragging a hand down his face. Bumblebee simply watched while his companion vented.

“Yeah I know I get a little over enthusiastic sometimes, but who wouldn’t? I worked under Alpha Trion for Primus’s sake! We’re fighting besides Optimus Prime. _The Optimus Prime._ That’s the stuff of legends. We’re going to be legends, but I’ve hardly been here. So maybe I’m eager to make my mark. I don’t want to be just a foot note.”

Smokescreen fell back to sitting with his helm in his hands.

“But then I get left behind because I’m too inexperienced, or ‘childlike’. It’s like they forget I went through military training.”

Bee began to rub Smokescreen’s shoulders before beeping to him.

“ _You’ll get your chance Smokey.”_

“I just—Arcee can be so hard on me, and Ratchet gets personally offended if I mention becoming a prime…”

Bee lowered the cover over his mouth before planting light kisses on Smokescreen’s cheek plates.

_“What do you say we go on a drive and forget this?”_

Bumblebee revved his engines.

_“I’ll let you top.”_

Off in the wilds of Nevada, Smokescreen fumbled with a rope trying to knot it gently around Bumblebee’s wrists behind his back and tie it to his ankles. He pressed his mouth against Bee’s and began to kiss him fairly eagerly, his glossa slipping between the lip plates.

Once bound, he pushed Bee onto his back so that his arms kept him propped up. He walked to Bee’s front and knelt by his head before popping a candy into the yellow one’s mouth.

“Swallow it whole.”

He watched as Bumblebee choked it down and smiled darkly. Engines revving, he popped a second one into his companion’s mouth.

“Suck on that.”

He walked around to Bumblebee’s legs and began to stroke his valve panel.

“Don’t open until I say you can.”

He rubbed a soft candy against the hot panel before licking up the residue, his glossa catching somewhat painfully on the seams.

“Ow scrap.”

Briefly Smokescreen pulled his glossa back in his mouth to nurse the pinch. Bee began to chuckle, so Smokescreen slapped the covered spike panel.

Smokescreen opened his own valve panel before stepping over Bumblebee’s head and lowering himself.

“Lick me clean.”

The yellow scout began to lick and suck the folds of Smokescreen’s valve eagerly and gently, and as he did so, the flow of lubricant became more and more full. His face slowly became a mess as Smokescreen moaned. That glossa flicked over his sensitive outer node wonderfully while slowly licking against the rest of his outer valve.

Smokescreen began to undulate his hips against Bee’s mouth. His companion responded by delving his glossa up between the folds and into Smokescreen’s valve. The white recruit moaned and leaned forward, catching himself before he fell.

“Well frag Bee I’m still a mess.”

Smokey shrugged before standing back up and returning to lick the outer plating of Bee’s panels.

“Show me your valve.”

Smokescreen’s spike was already out, the head of it pressing against the cover of Bumblebee’s valve.

“OW!”

When Bee retracted the panel, Smokescreen’s spike briefly caught on the same seam his glossa did, but he couldn’t focus on that when Bumblebee’s valve lay exposed and wanting.

Gently he began to ease his spike in. Typically Smokescreen bottomed, so Bee’s valve was exceptionally tight, almost painful, as he pushed in. When he began to pull out, Bumblebee’s valve resisted the movement, pulling on his spike.

“Primus Bee you make everything worth it.”

Smokescreen’s optics were half shut as he continued to gently rock. When Bee began to speak up in his binary, Smokescreen paused to pop another candy in his mouth.

“Shhhhh. No words.”

He began to pump faster but still gently and not too quickly. Bee had left Smokescreen so close to his own overload that lubricant ran down his inner thighs, and within minutes he reached his climax.

Smokescreen dug his hands into Bumblebee’s shoulder as his release came over him. He thrusted wildly until he was spent. Bee writhed beneath him, encouraging him to continue, but he simply couldn’t, not like he was before.

And eating his own transfluid was sort of gross.

“Let me see your spike,” he panted still firmly planted in Bee.

With a shick, the panel slid by and Bumblebee’s spike stood straight out demanding attention.

Smokescreen pulled out and back before lowering first his hands then his mouth over the black and yellow and blue spike. Hands pumping and mouth sucking, he began to drive Bee to his overload. His glossa swirled over the head lapping up any stray transfluid that made its way up early.

He didn’t stop to tell Bee how wonderful he tasted. He didn’t stop when he overloaded. He simply continued sucking and petting until Bee became soft.

Dropping the now limp spike, Smokescreen leaned over to kiss Bumblebee and undo his restraints.

“I might not have the destiny of a prime,” Smokescreen murmured against Bumblebee’s audial, “But I’ve got you. That’s all I really want.”


End file.
